“Who wronged ye?” Liam asked, briefly forgetting his own troubles. “Who do ye come here to pray for?” And why did he want to send that person to meet his final judgment?
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she murmured, staring down into her lap.
“Try me,” he prompted, surprised by how much he wanted her to trust him, to confide in him.
To confess to him.
“All I can say, my laird, is that I have demons of my own.” She met his eyes again, hers shining with suspicious moisture. “And because of your protection, your … comraich, I like to think that they cannot find me here at Ravencroft.”
Something within him melted. Perhaps it was his native language so adorably mispronounced by her British tongue. Or the self-effacing smile that produced that dimple he wanted to explore with his lips. Or her words. Words that provoked a tiny well of light in a subject he’d thought had become hopeless. A part of Liam hated the effect she had on him, that she made his heart soft and his body hard. Though it was life affirming, in a way, this sense of anticipation between them. Of … inevitability.
She turned back to the altar and leaned closer to the side of the pew. Away from him, killing the effect. “I just left Andrew,” she said brightly. “He is doing much better.”
His frown became so grave, so hard, he feared his own features would crack with strain. “With him, I feel there is no forgiveness for me.” He scored his scalp with heavy fingers as he ran a frustrated hand through his unbound hair. “All I’ve ever been is a man without mercy. An agent of cruelty and darkness and fear. My entire life, I’ve wrought nothing but destruction. I suppose that’s why I came back to Ravencroft. The idea of growing things, of building a life, and leaving a thriving legacy for my children, the two beings I helped to create, suddenly held great appeal. As if in doing so I might find some deliverance, if not redemption. Perhaps chase away the terrible memories haunting the halls of this place. But I fear it’s too late.”
“It’s never too late to make things right.”
She had no idea of what she spoke.
“Miss Lockhart—Mena—I must ask ye. Did ye see what happened today? Could it have been Andrew that pushed that barrel?”
As though realizing what must have been troubling him, his greatest fear, Mena’s eyes widened and she shook her head vehemently. “I’m still not certain what I saw, but I’m positive it wasn’t him, my laird. I know your son has been a dark and angry cloud. But I found Andrew in his bedroom directly after the incident. He’d already made it back to the keep.” She perked, rushing to cover his skepticism. “In fact, we had a rather splendid moment, and made unprecedented progress. I think that you will be pleased with him in the days to come. He’ll approach you, I know it, and you’ll find a reason to mend things between you.”
Liam slumped back against the pew, more relieved than even he’d expected.
“You can’t be inclined to believe that your own son would take actions to cause you harm,” she said in disbelief.
He wouldn’t be the first Mackenzie son to do so.
Liam dipped his head. “I’m inclined to believe that ye’re an angel sent to look after them, Mena. The ballast to the devil that sired them.”
He couldn’t be certain, but he thought a blush tinged her cheeks.
“Hardly an angel,” she whispered, and seemed to lean toward him in a way that told him she wasn’t aware of her action. “Your children, they have been so lonely for you. Would it be unforgivable of me to ask you what kept you from them all these years?”
His heart thumped so hard, he wondered if she couldn’t hear it. He’d never had someone dare to ask him such a question. His gaze darted about the chapel, until it landed on the long unused dark wood box with its royal-blue curtains. Perhaps, Liam thought, now was the time for confession. Maybe he could, just this once, unburden his soul.
His voice felt like gravel in his throat as he gave words to his darkest thoughts. “As I said before, there is a demon, of a more figurative kind, that has tainted the blood of the men in this family for generations. It burns through us until there’s nothing left but ash and char. I’ve fought innumerable battles in my life, but none as difficult as the one I wage with myself. Ye canna know what it is to live with this much fire. With so much anger and hatred that it chews through ye until ye’re nothing but a black void. I would save my children from knowing that kind of cruelty. I would protect them from the abject violence of it. For decades I thought that dark abyss would swallow me whole, and until I stepped away from its edge, I couldna risk taking them into it with me. And so I did whatever I had to do to keep it away from them, even if it meant … keeping myself away.”
“I don’t think you ever would have hurt them,” she reassured him after a thoughtful moment.
He shook his head. “But I couldna return until I was certain.”
“What changed?” she asked softly. “When were you convinced?”
Liam knew the exact moment; it was branded onto his soul. It haunted his nightmares. “When I lost my brother.”
“Hamish?”
A bitter sound escaped him. Of course she’d have heard about Hamish. He’d been a part of this clan. A part of their lives. Their father’s not-so-secret shame, and the man that their father would have preferred over Liam to be his heir.